Iodine
by decuvieri
Summary: Tristan and Joey spend some quality time together.


**Category:** Yu-Gi-Oh!  
**Rating: **T  
**Genre:** Drama  
**Summary:** Tristan and Joey spend some quality time together.

Iodine

"Watch out!" I warned him as quickly as I could. While I had pulled a good maneuver by dodging the on-coming fist that was flying at my face, I had forgotten Joey had been at my back and was covering me from that angle. I had left him open for getting nailed right in the back of the head.

But he had heard my warning, and instead of wasting time by turning around to look at what was coming, he immediately ducked without question. Don't you love that feeling that you get when you see that somebody trusts you **that** much?

The misguided punch hit nothing but air as Joe fell out of the way, and just as my would-be attacker was starting to trip from the energy thrust he had put into his hand, I took the opportunity to return the favor by swinging my own clenched fist in his unguarded jaw.

I found myself crossing my arms and smiling smugly as he fell towards the paved ground of the dead-end alley, but didn't realize what I had put myself in until after I felt my legs being kicked out from beneath me. _Stupid! _I mentally screamed at myself. _Stupid, stupid idiot! _

I landed with a dull _thud_ on the same ground I had just thrown my target on. Apparently, Joey's victim was still standing and fighting... with a vengeance. I noticed my blonde companion was on his knees as well, but he had been hit and that was why he was staying down.

"Joe, where'd you get it?" I shouted to him, regaining my sense of balance and preparing a defensive move for when I would get attacked again.

"Face," he responded promptly, and I heard the familiar tone of viciousness return to his voice, "but I'm ready for 'em now!" His smirk was a sign to the others that he was far from quitting, and you could tell by his spirit that he was nowhere near giving up.

We stood, side-by-side, staring down our two counterparts. They were two guys from theRolleigh School District, to the South of Domino city. A rival district known for their aggressivene thugs.

They didn't know who they were messing with, now did they?

A few good punches, some kicks, an uppercut and three bites later (For the record, Joe did all the biting. Not me.), we had been left alone by the fleeing boys. I felt pain all over from the blows that I hadn't been able to defend myself from, but what bugged me the most was the huge bump I felt forming on my lip, along with the taste of blood on my tongue. I looked at Joe to make sure he was alright, and he seemed fine... If you ignored the two swollen areas on his face where his eyes should have been.

"Aren't you gonna look pretty come Monday with those two black eyes," I snickered at him. He threw his gaze back over his shoulder at me in that sassy way he does and pointed at my face.

"Yeah, and that busted lip of ya's is gonna look just peachy along with that big ol' scratch down ya face." I had a scratch on my face? I reached my hand up to try and feel the wound, but he stopped me.

"Don't. You'll rub dirt in it." He tossed his head over in the direction of the street that was the exit of the alley as a signal for me to follow him. "We can get cleaned up at my place. Knowin' your mom, she'd flip out a hundred times ova' if she saw ya now."

"Do I look that bad?" I returned, slightly worried.

"You look awful. But I can't do a whole lot about it, seein' as how you'se was born with that creepy face," he laughed good-naturedly, putting his hands behind his head and beginning to walk. I would have hit him if we hadn't just been in a fight a couple of minutes ago, but I brushed it off with my own retaliation.

"It could have been worse. I could have been born looking like you."

"I'd see it as an improvement, Khaki-boy."

"They must not have mirrors where you come from."

When we had dragged each other to theWheeler residence, we had to muster the strength to lug our battered corpses to the upstairs bathroom. It was bigger and had a larger stock of iodine and wound dressings than the downstairs bathroom.

"My old man is out for the weekend to get some business crap done. We got the place to ou'selves." I didn't realize how much that fact would contribute to the turn out of the day.

He flicked the light switch on as I found myself automatically weaving my way around the toilet and bathtub to the sink with the installed medicine cabinet with the mirror. I couldn't believe that what he had said about the scratch. Hell, that wasn't a scratch! There was a huge gaping slash in my face!

"My mom will kill me," I muttered absently as I brought my fingers up to trace over the outline of the wound. My mom and I had one of those hour-and-a-half long talks about how I was her most prized possession in the world and if I got in any more fights she'd beat the living crap out of me herself. Family love.

"It ain't that bad... You may need stitches, but don't let ya mom see it until it heals and you should be in da clear..." I glared daggers at him through my reflection in the mirror. He shrugged helplessly, and then pointed to the cabinet I was looking into. "Iodine's in there."

When we had settled down and had pulled out all of the familiar medical works we began tending to each other's wounds - as usual. He sat on the edge of the white tub while I took seat across from him on the toilet with the lid down so I could clean out his cuts accurately. We had both gotten some serious infections from untended injuries in the past, and after Joey almost lost his right index finger from a piece of glass that had been splintered into it we decided to start these little after-math medical sessions.

I remember the first time we did this. He teased me about wanting to play 'doctor' with him. I called him an idiot and started picking at his cuts with a tweezers, making it as painful of an experience as I could. He's never called me 'doctor' since, though he did refer to me as a sadist more than once.

I soaked a cotton ball with the antiseptic and started at his hands and arms; rubbing it thoroughly over anyplace I saw a drop of blood on his pale flesh. He didn't have as many trouble spots as usual, and I figured his fighting style _might_ have improved. Not likely, but I could hope. His face was where I had to clean up the most. Some blood had trickled from the corner of his mouth and he had only smeared it into a bigred splotchwhen he tried to wipe it away. His two black eyes seemed to have dwindled down to one as his left become less swollen than it had been while his right was already beginning to turn bluish-purple.

"Probably should get some ice for that," I warned him as if he didn't know that was the universal remedy for black eyes, "It'll take the swelling down."

"After I get you fixed up," he replied with a twinge of his eye as I poked curiously at his bruises. Then I poked at it again... And a third time, for good measure. That ticked him off. "What the hell are ya doin' that for?"

"I wanted to see if it hurts," I told him, not leaning away from his face at all.

He scoffed. "Well it **does**!"

"Oh, good," I smirked devilishly as I poked the dark spot once again and he swatted my arm away in aggravation.

"Alright, Mr. Touchy-Feely," he growled lightly as he began to reach for a new cotton ball and the glass container of gray-black iodine. I bowed my head as I began to blush - it didn't take a whole lot to get my cheeks to turn red, and it was really embarrassing. He didn't notice, and reached for and took my hand, pulling it closer to him so he could check it over. Joe always took forever to do these things.

"Take your time. I know how crappy you work under pressure," I shot him a dubious look.

His brown eyes looked up to meet mine, and they didn't look to glad after that comment. "You want it done fast or do ya want it done right?" The way in which he said that sprung my interest.

"Are you _trying_ to sound perverted?"

"Yeah, I was really hoping you'd say 'Both, fast AND right. Right here and now, Joe', but you caught on to my tricks, you sly fox," he replied in a tone that was deathly sarcastic and rolled his eyes, a bright grin on his face.

He had only progressed to the scrapes on my upper arm when I laughed at him and promptly returned with "Don't deny yourself, Joe. Everybody knows you want me."

I was just joking. Really, I was.

That grin faded from his face quickly, and I found myself being stared at in the eye by a very serious Joey Wheeler. He normally would never look at anybody like that unless they either struck him hard, or struck him deep.

"Don't even joke about that." His voice had been in a whisper, but it had a sharp edge of emotion in it. He had never used that tone with me, and frankly, I was stunned senseless. I mean, Joey was _never_ stern with me. It was pretty scary, and I shut up really fast. He stared back into my eyes for a long ten more seconds after I had broken the gaze to look down at my hands before he finally started back up with the noticeably-quicker cleaning of my wounds.

Was it something I said?

I hadn't meant to offend him, and if I had, then how did I do it? Joey was in love with Mai - a well-known fact. It had been just about broadcasted to everybody who knew them both by their hinting and flirtations, even though they acted like they hated each other. And I had just been playing around! Joe and I were so... Not like that. We were brothers, best friends, comrades at arms - you name it. But there was no way in hell we were _lovers_.

Last I checked, my sexual preference lines were straight.

My heart froze when I asked myself if everything I said was right. Yes, I even questioned the 'straight lines' part.

We hadn't seen Mai in like, forever. She had gone off and done her own thing, which was usual for her. If they loved each other, would she have left? Not exactly the obvious way to show your affection for somebody: getting up and walking out on them. So, maybe those two could be eliminated as a possible romance? But that didn't mean that the thoughts that were passing through my head were necessarily true.

But they could be.

Joe's mess of blonde hair was leaned over my arms, checking for anything he may have missed before. He must not have realized I was thinking about or looking at him, and it dawned on me that the only way to find out of how he felt was to ask him directly.

But use words? No, Joey would never go for that. Neither would I, for that matter. It's not one of those things you merely discuss like if you were talking about some hot girl you know or the music you liked. So I knew I had to find another way that would give me a definite sign to know for sure.

Scared and as nervous as hell, I lowered my head down to his and found his ear. Shaken and unsure, I put my lips right next to it and let my hot breath drift to his delicate flesh. I had long since abandoned breathing through my nose as I didn't get enough air that way, and was forced to take what oxygen I could through my mouth in quick, short pants and gasps. Joey froze on the contact of the warm wind blowing over skin and down towards his neck, and I was amazed at how still that guy could really be. I licked my suddenly-dry lips and quietly posed the question by bringing my hand up to his hidden face and gently pressed his chin upwards so I could see his eyes.

When our gazes met, I was caught off guard by the tears that had formed and trailed down his face. He was trying to hard to keep the sobs down, but his efforts became too weak to hold back the tears. I could have sworn that my heart stopped for a few seconds while we sat there in the upstairs bathroom. Us with ouropen cuts and darkening bruises, just frozen in place with my hands in his own and his form shuddering from the violent emotions that he was beginning to unveil.

He pulled back away furiously, shocking me for the second time that day. He shot up past me and turned away towards the medicine cabinet, hovering over the sink with his arms supporting his body weight. He forcefully tamed his sadness, but his voice had acquired a new edge than it had before. The hints of longing and despair were in it, and even though he spoke in quiet starts and whispers, I heard every word.

"Don't mock me, Tristan," he growled, "Just... Don't. You don't got any idea how I feel, so don't ... Just stop."

"You don't mean that," I said, quite sure that what I was saying was right. I stood up and cautiously approached him (in fear of getting a good smack in the face if he was in one of his 'moods'), but stopped about a foot away from him. "No, I don't know what you're thinking, or what you're feeling. And I will never be able to-" He turned on his heel and tried to push past me, but I snatched his arm to show that I wasn't done, "-unless you let me know. Show me."

He didn't try to pull away from me, and it was hard to tell what he was thinking because he was faced away from me again. It was silent besides our breathing, and I even heard him swallow hard before extracting another breath.

"You'd hate me if I did."

"Try me."

He sighed, and then peered back over his shoulder to look at me. I was determined to find out what was going on in that head of his, and persistent enough to keep asking until I got an answer. He must have read this on my face because he suddenly had a change of heart and decided to show me after all. His way was a little more direct than I had figured he would let out as he grabbed my jacket and pulled me closer to him, then touched his lips against mine.

I still don't quite know what had come over me. Caught up in the moment, I had to think faster than I ever had before. But I didn't think - I knew what I wanted. Was it what I wanted? They warned us about youth hormones in school, but I think that the urge to accept the kiss came from deeper within me. My body ached for it more than any fight ever could make me hurt. My heart pounded in my ears and I was so scared I was about to fall over, but I went against all first instincts and parted my lips for the blonde. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss by pushing my lips apart even more and slid his tongue into my mouth.

My reaction at this point would have been me jumping back and screaming at him. I wasn't a real homophobic, but I never thought **I** was like that. I would yell about how wrong that this was and how screwed he was in the head about everything. We were two guys - practically _brothers_ - making out in a bathroom. I would have cursed him out for being so sickhe was.I would have done all of that... If I hadn't found myself liking it.

He retreated and took a step back away from me. He tried to make himself seem steady, but I could tell he was just as much in need of air as I was. He crossed his arms and put all of his weight on one leg like he was expecting me to admit he was right.

"Yeah. Now you get it. I'm in love with you, and I hope you're not too freaked out, but you asked for me to show you, and I did. Now let's just skip all of the 'you freak!' looks and get to the part where you begin hating me with every fibre of your being an' all that-"

"Joe!" I cut him off abruptly, not even knowing that I did until I was half-way past my next sentence, "You're... ranting. Just slow down so I can ... think for a minute." I stepped back and sunk down on the edge of the tub where he had been when all of this started. He leaned against the nearest wall with his arms crossed, and I was glad that he was giving me time to digest what had just happened. "Joe, I'm not... I'm not angry with you, if that's what you think. You're just kinda throwing me off today and it's..."

"...Throwing you off?" He finished for me with a slight smile. I was relieved to see him cool off again. Things went over easier if Joey was in a good mood. I nodded and returned the grin.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" I resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at him.

"What would have you done if I did?"

"Probably flipped out," I admitted sulkily.

"That's right. And knowing you, you'd never talk to me again. You'se sure you ain't upset over this?"

I shook my head. "No, just wasn't expecting it. Kind of an awkward position you put me in, Joe."

"Did I _scare_ you?" he asked in a mock-voice.

"I think I'll quote you... I think it went 'It's your creepy face that's giving me the willies', right?" How long ago had that Bandit Keith thing been? A few months already?

"You quote me 'cause you ain't sharp enough to come up with something' yourself."

"Or maybe it's because you're really not one to talk about how ugly a person is," I retorted matter-of-factly. His hands fell down to his sides and shoulders sagged.

"So... What are ya gonna do about this?" Back to the forbidden topic. "Now you know, and I don't think we'd be able to ignore it."

Sighing, I rested my head on my hand. "You're right: we can't ignore it now. To be honest, I haven't the slightest clue as to what I want to do. No, I'm not angry, but I'm still kind of... scared."

He gave me a questioning look. "Of what?"

"I guess of making the wrong decision - if I'm even able to decide on _something_. Just kinda getting that helpless feeling about this, ya know? Like I'm lost or something'."

"Yeah, I know how that is. I know it," the scraping sound of his green jacket running down the wall as he slid into a sitting position racked the quiet. He landed with a blunt _thud_ on the tile floor. "Like when I just realized. I was scared and confused outta my mind."

"When did you ... figure it out?"

He smiled at himself, like he was remembering some pretty interesting things. I was deathly curious, but I held back from asking until he told me on his own accord. "Remember when Yami Bakura pulled his 'turn-ya-into-your-favorite-card' trick?"

"Nope. No idea what you're talking about."

"Thought so. Well, when I was brought out onto the field as the Flame Swordsman, and Yami played Yugi and Tea a while after that, you had already been to the Monster Graveyard."

"Freaky place," I murmured.

"You're tellin' me. I sacrificed myself so Yami Yugi could play his strategy through, but not before you tried. You'd already been there, seen the entire place, and you still wouldn't have given a second thought to go again if it would protect us. That takes some guts."

"So what? You where the one who actually took the chance."

"Forget what I did. It could have been the ultimate sacrifice, but you would have done it. That," he paused to stand back up, "was what attracted me to you. You've got an ungodly noble spirit, man."

"Good thing or bad thing?"

"Both. Your nobility gets kinda annoying after a while."

"And like you're not annoying all the time?"

"Quit dragging us of the topic!"

"Hey, you called **me** annoying."

He snuffed the air and discarded my last comment. "So what are you gonna do about it?" he asked me again.

"Let me put it this way. What would you do if I turned you down?" I kept the compassion in my voice to make sure he didn't think I was mocking him, and was glad he didn't.

"I... Don't really know," he confessed, "I don't know if I'd be able to hang around you with all these emotions crammed inside of me while you disapproved of 'em. Things would definitely change."

"And what would you do if I said that I loved you too?"

Complete silence.

"Joey?" I prodded, probably sounding a bit cold-hearted, but I wanted to know.

He lightened up again in that usual Joey Wheelerway. It still amazes me how a kid with such a background and history could do that.

"Then I'd probably drag you off into my bedroom and screw ya for all I'm worth."

I just about fell over. He laughed, which, didn't make the situation seem any easier. "Idiot," I growled, "You kill me with another shock like that and you won't have anybody left to drool over."

"Oh, I dunno... That Seto Kaiba doesn't really hate me that much, you know. Twice as attractive as anybody else around here-" It suddenly dawned on him that I had my eyes narrowed and wasn't laughing. "Jealous, are we? And just a few minutes ago you weren't even sure if you wanted me or not."

So we were back on topic again. This conversation was beginning to become more disturbing by the minute. Talking about how attractive Seto Kaiba was with Joey had not exactly been something I had invisioned myself doing in the past.

"I don't know what I want. I don't know what's for the best... For you and for myself." I tried to rub my face with my hands, completely forgetting the fact that I had been injured with that huge gash down my cheek. My fingers smashed into the open cut, and it took a lot of effort to not start screaming bloody murder. How in the hell had I forgotten that I was still bleeding?

"I told you not to touch it."

"Just... Get the iodine," I sputtered, still doing my best not to start yelling.

The gray-stained cotton that Joe had started using before was taken from the sink and re-soaked. He had to get close to my face, so he sat next to me on the bathtub rim instead of on the toilet seat. I sat still as he brushed over the gap in my cheek that pounded with my blood from where I had irritated it. This was one of the cases where I was glad Joe was thorough in his inspections.

"Good news... It's definitely not deep enough for stitches. It will probably heal in a week or longer, but at least your mom won't die while watching the doctors stick a metal needle through ya skin."

"Could you even imagine?" My mom always had a really weak stomach. She'd get sick by watching the Health channel. Really weird considering all the health hazards my father and I put her through. He smokes, and I have been picking up a nasty habit of occasionally lighting up one for myself, and half of the time the things we put into our cooking has more letters in it's name that either of us can read. My father and I are not inclined to perfect physical lives.

Neither of us said a word during his last few minutes of aiding my face. What was there to say? I think he was just relieved to see that I was still speaking to him. I don't really know what triggered his sudden interest in me - we had been best friends since forever. At least until Yugi brought us into his quest with Duel Monsters. It was about then did Joe and I start to break apart and he started hanging with Yugi, but he really did try to make sure I never felt left out. We still did the things we used to do on the weekends like pick fights or go to this one restaurant and drop hints at the waitresses. Rarely did we go to the ocean. It's about an hour drive from Domino, but he liked to drive his dad's old pickup to this one specific spot and we'd just bum there on the warm days. We've been through everything together, and even if I wanted to, I don't think I could hate Joe for very long over anything.

He finished up and sat back, admiring his work. "I could become a doctor someday."

"I'd be really sorry for your patients."

"Shaddup, I know what I'm doin'."

"Or so you say," I retorted smugly, and doing my best to maintain my composure, I took us back to the question. "Where you kidding when you said that if I told you I loved you, then you would..." I faded off, not sure if I could bring myself to say what he did. Hey, I got my pride, ya know.

A big smile crept onto his face. Not just a grin, but a **huge**, sinister smile. He was thinking some forbidden thoughts, I knew. It scared me, seeing him like that. "Only if you wanted me to."

"Do I even want to know what you're thinking right now?"

"Only if you love me."

"And if I do?"

"Then I guess I could show you."

"Would you?"

"You bet. Would _you_?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"Why 'maybe'?"

"Depends if I was ready, I guess." Wait. Where we still on the same topic? For once he got me confused.

"Then I would be fine with you sayin' you did love me and I'd wait for ya until you were ready." He would wait for me. I still hold those words close to my heart. Not many people in my life would ever wait for me to catch up with them. I didn't have many people in my life at all. Never really felt love from anybody before, and really didn't expect it to come to me like this... The feeling I was getting was love, right? How could I be sure? "So do ya?"

"Do I what?" I was yanked back to reality.

"Love me?"

"I'm... not sure. I just don't know if I do or not, Joe, in that way."

Scared the daylights out of me when he pulled me close by my jacket collar and spread my lips apart to kiss me like he had done before. It didn't feel like he was trying to be forceful, and I didn't try to get away. The warmth from his lips was so assuring and welcoming. His tongue flicked against mine previous to moving deep to my throat, exploring my mouth as he willed. Neither of us could breathe, but it seamed to be insignificant just then.

I felt his cool fingers snake up from my collar to my face, brushing gently against the scrape on my cheek. He ran his fingertips down the border of my cut, but the twinge of pain I received was completely forgotten. I didn't want the feeling to leave me, but I had little choice in the matter as Joey sat back, ending the kiss but still caressing my face.

"Truthfully, did you like that?" He asked, completely straight-forward in his deep sighs and gasps for air.

I nodded solemnly, still trying to catch my own breath.

"Do you think you could love me?"

I touched his hand with my own and clasped it. "Ya know, I think I just might be able to," I answered, pressing his palm firmly down on my face, ignoring my wound. He smiled gently at me, but you could tell he was overjoyed with that.

What happened afterwards is for us to know and for you to guess at. If you need a hint, all _I'd_ be willing to say is that we furthured the depth of our relationship for a few hours. If you asked _Joe_, however, you might get a more detailed story.

I swear Joey has no sense in his head.

* * *

"Where were you?" Busted.

"Out," I tried to explain to my mother without my voice cracking, "Just doing stuff with Joe."

"Like what?" She stared me down fiercely. I hated the interrogation part. "It's eleven-thirty! ...What happened to your-? You were fighting again, weren't you? Damn it, Tristan Taylor!"

I checked my watch. Oh, it was pretty late after all... I tried to shrug her off and treaded into the living room where my father was sitting in his recliner reading the paper. Unsurprisingly, he had a cigarette hanging from his lips and it almost fell away when he spoke.

"Give the boy some slack, Diane," he said without looking away from the sports section. My mother had just walked in after meand crossed her arms angrily.

"'Give him some slack'? That's what I've been doing for the last sixteen years since he learned how to walk! Out late at nights, no supervision - he refuses to tell me where he goes or what he does, and all_you_ say 'give him some slack'!"

"He's a boy," his voice was still deathly monotone, "That's what boys do. Quit yellin' at him, Diane."

I love my dad. See? This is me, standing here, loving my dad.

I was about to turn back and head to my room when I heard my mom mutter something behind me. "I swear, you keep this up and you're gonna be gettin' high and sleeping with girls. Your lack of common sense will leave a lot of babies with no father."

Ahem.

I turned on my heel, tugged my old man's smoke out from his fingers and inhaled it for myself. He grunted and reached for the end table to get a new one and a lighter. Grinning at my mom devilishly, I exhaled the smoke from my mouth and slyly retorted. "Mom, I am not sleepin' with no girls."

I climbed the stairs to my room, leaving her a little confused. If she could have only known what little sin Joey and I had committed.


End file.
